


can i borrow a kiss? i promise i'll give it back

by starciti



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Forehead Kisses, M/M, Morning Kisses, Sleepy Kisses, Tickle Fights, basically just a whole lot of kisses!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 13:47:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11761194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starciti/pseuds/starciti
Summary: Soft lips against scraped-up knees, back when they were mere children; a kiss filled with heat, want, and desire; their lips pressed to each other's, to say all the words that never should have been left unsaid. Iwaizumi Hajime and Oikawa Tooru, and all of the kisses that make them whole.A character study and self-indulgent fic all wrapped up in one! Six short drabbles about six of the kisses that Hajime and Tooru have shared throughout the years, for varying reasons.





	can i borrow a kiss? i promise i'll give it back

**Author's Note:**

> i'm not gonna lie, this fic has been sitting in my drafts for like, a year. probably upwards of two, honestly! i've put it off for so long, just as i did with watching the second season of haikyuu, but i finally managed to finish it and then finish this.  
> but when i say finish, i kind of just mean revise? basically, this is a fic that i wrote a year or so ago, left alone, reworded a few bits after watching season 2, and am just now posting. because... i'm really lazy. lmao.  
> that being said, the fact that this fic was written a year ago means that it's a little different from my normal writing style! it's also the first time i've ever written iwa or oikawa, so i don't exactly have a firm grasp on either of their characters just yet! some people have told me it's pretty out of character, though others have said it's just fine, so instead of staring at it for another year unhappily i just decided to post it, haha...  
> so! this fic is basically just a bunch of kisses. it's just oikawa and iwa kissing a bunch, for reasons that vary and are not related whatsoever. i like to write these first, when i start getting into ships, so i can try out writing their characters - and while this may not be entirely in character, it's still pretty cute! it does get just a little spicy for like, a prompt, but oh well!  
> happy reading!

**A kiss on an injury (as kids).**

Tooru had a lot of band-aids. Three different bathrooms had three different cabinets — each containing a multitude of boxes of bandages that Tooru himself had picked out, of course.

Tooru was quite fond of his band-aids, clad with spaceships and rockets and all. _Using_ the band-aids, on the other hand, he was much less fond of.

“Stop crying.” Hajime chides as he rips open the paper covering an alien band-aid.

“’m not crying.” Tooru sniffles, obviously crying. He eyes the scrape on his knee with narrowed eyes, still unhappy about the leftover sting that the antiseptic had brought. Hajime hadn’t been merciful when applying it, either; he never was.

“Whatever you say.” Hajime mumbles as he smooths the band-aid on Tooru’s knee, ignoring the pathetic whimper of protest he gives.

“So mean.” Tooru says shakily, though he drags his sleeve across his cheeks to wipe away his tears anyways. Hajime gives the band-aid a final press to ensure that it stays before nodding at it.

“There,” Hajime begins, glancing up at Tooru with raised eyebrows. “ _Now_ will you stop crying?”

“It still hurts.” Tooru whimpers. As if to spite Hajime, more tears spring into his eyes, threatening to fall as Tooru bites his lip. No, he won’t cry — Hajime-chan will get mad at him if he does.

“I can’t do anything about that.” Hajime says bluntly. Tooru wails.

“But it _hurts,_ Hajime-chan!” Tooru whines, and starts crying again. Hajime thinks he should be annoyed, but this happens too often for him to be affected.

Instead, Hajime does exactly what he shouldn’t — he lets out a long, resigned sigh, kneels in front of Tooru once again, takes his scraped knee in hand, and presses his lips against it, antiseptic and alien band-aid and all.

Tooru stops crying immediately.

Hajime glances up to Tooru with narrowed eyes. “Does it still hurt now?”

Tooru blinks before he smiles at him, red-faced and teary, but bright.

“Nope,” Tooru says, and his voice is as bright as his grin, though he sniffles once or twice. “I feel better already, Hajime-chan.”

Hajime makes a noncommittal noise as he quickly glances down, fumbling as he tries to close the box of band-aids. He’ll need to open another box soon, he thinks, and is sure of it once he sees the way Tooru happily eyes the band-aid on his knee.

And if Tooru keeps that band-aid on for much longer than he should, well, Hajime doesn’t say anything about it.

**A “good morning” kiss.**

For the first time in a very long while, Tooru wakes up first.

Tooru has, quite unfortunately, grown used to the routine of waking up alone; it was just the way it had always been, with him and Hajime. Hajime would go to bed at a decent time, like any decent person, while at the same time, Tooru would stay up until some ungodly hour of the night doing whatever it is that Tooru does for that long. And by the time Hajime _hasn’t_ been waiting for him for at least two hours, Tooru finds himself being dragged — sometimes with sleepy persuasion, sometimes with a fist in his hair — into bed.

When Hajime wakes up the next morning at a normal time, he doesn’t make any attempt at trying to wake Tooru up as well — it’s never going to work, so he may as well not try — so instead he (somewhat reluctantly) frees himself from Tooru’s sleepy embrace and starts his day alone.

Tooru used to complain about how lonely he was, whenever he woke up. But after a morning where Hajime was feeling particularly unkind, and flicked the light on and ripped Tooru’s sheets off him without a hint of remorse, he quickly learned that he much preferred sleeping in to not being alone. These days, he accepts Hajime’s act of both cruelty and mercy with only a little bit of protest.

But today’s not like his normal routine — because today, when Tooru tries to curl in on himself and hope he can sleep in just a little bit longer, or hope that Hajime won’t come into the room and take his covers, he finds that he’s curling further around Hajime himself, instead.

Tooru freezes the moment he’s able to recognize that Hajime is still in his arms — Hajime shifts slightly and makes a very soft noise of protest, but otherwise doesn’t stir — and takes a moment to stare at the boy in his arms and ponder his situation. It’s not often that Tooru wakes up first; proven by the fact that he can’t remember five times that it’s happened, so he’s not entirely sure what he should do.

He could let him sleep, is his first thought as he slowly attempts to twirl a strand of Hajime’s short hair around his finger. Hajime does that to Tooru every morning, after all, so Tooru supposes that he owes him back for that in some regard. But a quick glance at the clock proves that it’s already far too late to be sleeping in any further, no matter how cute Hajime looks when he’s sleeping and no matter how much Tooru would love to keep staring at his cute face.

Tooru trades his absentminded playing with Hajime’s hair for tracing his cheek with the back of a careful finger. If he does have to wake him up, then he may as well have some fun with it, right?

Mourning the loss of Hajime’s sleeping face (he should have taken a picture, honestly, what was wrong with him?), Tooru leans close enough that he can feel Hajime breathing against his skin as he places a slow, careful, deliberate kiss onto Hajime’s nose.

“Iwa-chan,” Tooru hums, and smiles once he sees Hajime’s eyes flutter open. He looks confused at first, and Tooru relishes that rare look on his face, but it fades as quickly as it came. It’s then replaced by the same look Hajime always has; all furrowed eyebrows and narrowed eyes and cute lips pulled into a frown. Tooru smiles a little bit more, and leans in to press another kiss onto Hajime’s lips, frown and all.

“Good morning, Iwa-chan.”

Hajime shoots him a look that looks just as unamused as he usually is, even though he was still half asleep. Tooru’s unsuccessful in biting back a laugh, though it stops short once he feels something warm press against his jaw. He looks down just in time to see Hajime pressing a quick kiss to his jawline before he moves and buries his forehead against Tooru’s neck.

Tooru is still and silent for a moment as he processes the situation, before he lets out the rest of the laugh that Hajime had interrupted as he glances down to the top of his head fondly.

“I didn’t know you get cuddly when you’re sleepy, Iwa-chan,” Tooru muses with a half smirk as he cards his fingers gently through Hajime’s hair.

Hajime looks up at him briefly as if he’s contemplating something, before he huffs softly and shuts his eyes again.

 “I’m lying on you like this because your breath smells like shit.”

Tooru thinks he should be mad; and in a way, he kind of is. But the moment he tries to voice it, Hajime cuts him off with another kiss; one that’s on his lips, this time, so Tooru doesn’t complain and kisses him back, instead.

Maybe he should wake up first more often.

**A heated kiss.**

Tooru will be the end of him, and he knows it all too well.

Hajime’s hands are shaking, so he buries them deep into Tooru’s hair and tries not to wince at how tightly Tooru’s gripping his hips. He can feel everything getting hotter, can feel the heat rising in his lips, his hands, between his legs, and he doesn’t think he could stop it even if he wanted to.

Tooru’s kissing him hungrily, and neither of them can get enough; no matter how close they get, no matter how hard they kiss, no matter how hot everything is, Tooru searches for more, and Hajime would be a damn liar if he said he didn’t want more, too.

Hajime feels Tooru bite his lip, possibly hard enough to draw blood. He pulls away, and narrowly avoids kissing him hard again when Tooru lets out a desperate whine.

Hajime opens his eyes and drinks in the sight in front of him; Tooru, face flushed and eyes closed, with his hair sticking out every which way and his mouth parted with uneven breaths. Tooru opens his eyes and all Hajime can see in them is _want,_ and he finds it even harder to hold himself back.

“Hajime,” Tooru whispers, and Hajime cracks when he hears the way he says his name, and the desire that his voice manages to hold in just one word.

Hajime kisses him again, but not on his lips. Instead, he presses his lips to his jawline, his neck, his collarbone; anywhere that will make Tooru melt under the soft touch of his lips. He can’t help but feel a little smug when he hears Tooru let out a tiny, pathetic “oh” and feels the way his back arches once Hajime lets his lips linger on a prominent bit of Tooru’s collarbone; somewhere he knows quite well that Tooru is particularly sensitive.

Hajime abruptly sinks his teeth into the sensitive skin, and he relishes the way Tooru cries his name when he does. He’s not sure if Tooru’s outburst was out of pain or pleasure, but he runs his tongue over the bite mark to soothe it all the same, deftly noting the little shiver that runs up Tooru’s spine.

“Hajime, _please,_ ” Tooru whines, and Hajime finally shows enough mercy to lift his head up and meet his eyes, which are big brown pools of nothing but red-hot _desire._ Almost out of spite, Hajime kisses his cheek chastely, and lets his lips linger there for longer than he should have.

“Please, what?” he asks because he shouldn’t, his words a hot breath against the skin of Tooru’s cheek.

“ _Hajime,_ ” Tooru all but moans his name instead of responding properly, and Hajime gives in. He doesn’t hold back when he kisses him this time, with desire burning hot under his (and Tooru’s) skin.

Hajime kisses him until his lips are bruised, and doesn’t regret it one bit.

**A kiss for making up.**

Hajime keeps his eyes towards the floor; Tooru stares blankly out the window, his body turned far enough that he can’t see Hajime even through his peripheral vision. The silence of the empty gymnasium hangs heavy between them; the weight of words said and words left unsaid a crushing weight against their chests.

The argument hadn’t started out serious, really; an off-hand comment about Hajime’s spike, a half-hearted retort about Tooru’s serve, and it went back and forth until they had both unwillingly made sharp remarks about all the wrong things. They had been left with voices hoarse from yelling and hearts heavy with words that they shouldn’t have said since that morning, right up until now, when they meet again for the first time since their faithful quarrel. Neither of them say anything, nor do they make any indication that they’re going to say anything, and Hajime almost turns to leave until —

“I’m sorry.” Hajime’s eyes are looking at him once again, wide with some semblance of shock at Tooru’s apology. As quiet and easy to miss as it had been, it had been there; and from _Tooru,_ somehow, who was as unlikely to apologize as anyone. Hajime doesn’t let himself miss the words, nor does he miss the hint of sincerity among the clouded emotions in Tooru’s eyes. “I… I shouldn’t have said that.”

“You shouldn’t have, but you did.” Hajime says bluntly, and regrets the words the moment he says them once he sees Tooru flinch and shut his eyes with a sharp intake of breath. There’s a long pause, heavy with the words that have yet to be said, until Tooru finally takes a glance towards Hajime, and the small frown on his lips is made clear.

“You said some things that you shouldn’t have said, too.” Tooru points out, and now Hajime’s the one looking away, unable to meet Tooru’s eyes since he knows that he’s right.

“I guess I did.” Hajime mumbles, awkward now that _he’s_ the one that’s getting chided, which is backwards and all wrong. He manages to turn his head back when he hears Tooru give a soft chuckle, and is met with a smile; though it’s awkward and uncertain, which makes his heart ache in an unfamiliar way. Tooru’s never uncertain, especially not with Hajime; it makes him wonder how much he had hurt him after all.

“Looks like we both said some things we didn’t mean, huh?” Tooru asks. His voice is significantly lighter, much more like it should be, and Hajime can feel the weight on his chest and in the air easing away.

“I guess so.”

The silence that follows isn’t as heavy as before, but Hajime would be lying if he said it didn’t weigh down on him.

“Then can we just… forget about it?” Tooru’s the one that speaks first, as per usual. Hajime can’t even pretend to be surprised; Tooru’s always jumped at the chance to start conflict unless it was serious. “Can we pretend we didn’t say what we didn’t mean?”

Hajime wants to insist that it’s not that simple; they said what they didn’t mean, and nothing would change that; but when he turns to look at Tooru, who’s staring in the other direction with arms hugged to his chest and wavering eyes, he loses all his resolve. Hajime must be either incredibly lucky or incredibly damned, he thinks; Tooru would never try so hard to fix an argument with anyone but him.

Hajime steps forward; the sound of his sneakers against the gym floor suddenly breaks the silence, which causes Tooru to look up just as Hajime approaches him. Hajime says nothing, but instead leans his head and presses a small kiss to the side of Tooru’s temple, before pressing his forehead against his and murmuring against his lips.

“Idiot,” Hajime mumbles fondly. “I’m not stupid enough to let your off-hand comments get to me. It’s _fine,_ Tooru; we can just forget about it.”

Tooru smiles, but it quickly fades, replaced by a look Hajime doesn’t get much of a chance to look at before Tooru’s burying his face into the crook of Hajime’s neck and loosely wrapping his arms around his waist. It’s a little awkward since Tooru’s taller, but Hajime leans the side of his head against Tooru’s hair and returns his embrace all the same.

“I hope you can forgive me, Iwa-chan.” Tooru says, his words a soft mumble against Hajime’s neck.

Hajime doesn’t think he’s ever been so happy to hear that stupid nickname come out of Tooru’s stupid mouth. He turns his head and presses another kiss to the side of Tooru’s head and lets out a soft sigh.

“Shittykawa. Of course I do.”

Tooru lets out a soft laugh as he lifts his head again, brushing his lips against Hajime’s cheek.

“But only if you’ll forgive me, too.”

Tooru blinks at him once or twice — he obviously hadn’t been expecting that — but he quickly brushes it off with a smile. One that’s some semblance of genuine, Hajime notes.

“Silly Iwa-chan,” Tooru muses, tightening the hold he has on Hajime’s waist as he leans his forehead against the side of Hajime’s. “Of course I forgive you, too.”

Hajime sighs softly, the weight of their conversation fading along with his long exhale. He moves to press his forehead against Tooru’s and shut his eyes, taking in the moment of silence and comfort that they have in each other’s arms.

“If you can give me another kiss, that is.”

Tooru must have been joking, if the soft ‘ _mmph!_ ’ he lets out when Hajime pushes his lips against his is any indicator of it, but he kisses back all the same.

**A kiss on the stomach.**

Tooru doesn’t think he’s ever heard Hajime laugh so much at one time.

“S-Stop it-!” Hajime barely manages to speak at all; his words are coming out breathlessly in between fits of laughter. Laughter that Tooru revels in; he doesn’t get to hear it often, anyways. “Sh-Shittykawa, I’m _serious,_ you know I’m-”

Hajime has to cut off his words once Tooru (very graciously) blows a raspberry against his bare stomach; his laughter overpowers his words at that point, and he gives up on trying to say them entirely. Tooru eyes him from where he’s sitting — kneeling on the floor in front of their bed and holding Hajime’s waist tightly in his arms, as to not let him change his position from how he’s lying on his back — and flashes him a loving smirk that he knows Hajime hates (loves) so much.

“I know you’re _ticklish?_ ” Tooru questions innocently as he nuzzles his nose against Hajime’s belly, and grins at the way he squirms and laughs a little more. “Of _course_ I know that, Iwa-chan. Why wouldn’t I? It’s the fun part of the punishment!”

Hajime lets out a breathy huff amid his attempts at catching his breath. He snatches the opportunity in which Tooru has finally stopped tickling him so he can release his death grip he has on the sheets and instead use his hand to ruffle Tooru’s hair a bit too forcefully.

“The fun part for _you,_ maybe.” Hajime mutters as he lets his head fall back against the pillow; he doesn’t even need to look at Tooru to know that he’s grinning at him, in that stupidly endearing way that Tooru does.

“Nope,” Tooru chirps after resting his cheek against the rising and falling skin of Hajime’s stomach. “The fun part for both of us.”

Before Hajime can say a word, Tooru’s bombarding him with an onslaught of fluttering kisses again; pressing them to that stomach of his that keeps shaking with laughter. Tooru knows that Hajime’s enjoying it, in some weird twisted way; after all, the smile that he’s greeted with every time he glances up is the one he hardly gets to see. It’s the smile Tooru’s greeted with on drowsy Saturday mornings, and after long, chaste kisses and dates where they do nothing but stay inside and together.

It’s the smile that lets Tooru know that Hajime is not only his and his alone — but that he w _ants_ to be, too.

So if the price for that smile is the undoubted scolding (and possible beating) that Hajime’s going to give him once Tooru finally stops kissing him? It’s worth it.

(And the way Hajime gasps when Tooru’s kisses begin to trail lower? Oh, that’s _definitely_ worth it.)

**A “good night” kiss.**

It’s two in the morning, and Hajime shouldn’t be awake.

Tooru shouldn’t be awake, either, but he has a habit of doing things that he’s not supposed to be doing, so Hajime can’t and won’t even pretend to be surprised. Instead, he’ll just lie awake and staring at the ceiling, listening to the clacking of Tooru’s laptop keys from two rooms away for what seems like hours, before he finally pulls himself out of bed and wonders how much trouble he’ll have trying to drag Tooru back to it.

When he finally drags himself out of bed and down to Tooru’s ‘designated study room’, he finds him exactly the way he expects to; back to the door, leg bouncing impatiently, and staring deftly at a mountain of words that he’s typed on his laptop screen as if he expects them to sound better if he stares at them long enough.

Tooru doesn’t notice him at first, and a few moments of silence pass before he starts tapping at the keyboard once again; and, of course, _that’s_ when Hajime decides to intervene.

“Two in the morning, huh,” Hajime says as he leans his back against the doorframe. Tooru’s hands still over the keyboard, but he otherwise doesn’t respond. “that’s a new record, I think.”

There’s a beat of silence before Tooru’s reply comes, his words hesitant and laced with repressed drowsiness. “I thought you were asleep.”

Hajime snorts. “Well, you thought wrong,” he says as he steps forward, peering over Tooru’s clearly tensing shoulders as he tries to look at what he’s doing. Seriously, what kind of college application could _possibly_ be keeping him up until _two in the morning_ —

“Holy shit,” Hajime says gracefully, and Tooru winces. “Are you — have you written _seventeen pages?”_

Tooru’s typing becomes a little harder, as he pretends not to hear what Hajime’s saying. Hajime shakes his head, still trying to wrap it around the fact that Tooru has written _that much, holy shit,_ before he turns back to Tooru’s screen.

“I get that you want to go to this school,” Hajime says as he peers at the side of Tooru’s face. Tooru doesn’t look back at him, but he does shift uncomfortably, which is a response, at least. “but is two in the morning really the time to be writing your application for it? It’s not like you don’t have to go to school tomorrow, you know.”

Tooru heaves a heavy sigh, and finally breaks his gaze away from the computer screen so he can look over at Hajime, and the clear look of exhaustion and stress almost, _almost_ makes Hajime feel bad for berating him.

“It’s a big school, Iwa-chan,” Tooru says slowly, not even bothering to plaster on a smile. “I can’t just blow this off.”

Hajime snorts as he glances at the mountain of words that Tooru already has on his page.

“If you call writing seventeen pages at two in the morning ‘blowing this off’, I’d hate to see your definition of overachieving.”

Tooru shakes his head and heaves a sigh as he swivels his chair back so he can stare at the computer screen once again.

“You know that I’m not going to let you keep doing this, right?” asks Hajime. “you’re going to go to bed if I have to physically drag you there.”

“Mhmm,” Tooru says, clearly not listening.

“Are you listening to me at all?”

“Mhmm.”

“So, you heard what I said before?”

“Mhmm.”

“So, you’re okay with me dragging you by the hair back to bed, right?”

“Mhmm… wait, what did you — _Iwa-chan!_ ”

Tooru doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence before Hajime grabs a fistful of his hair and starts dragging him down the hall, just as he said he would. Tooru’s cries of _‘Iwa-chan, you’re hurting me!’_ and _‘My hair, Iwa-chan!’_ fall on deaf ears, as Hajime doesn’t say a word to him until they’re both in bed and subsequently in each other’s arms. Even then, what he says probably isn’t what Tooru wanted to hear.

“If you want to get away from me that badly,” Hajime says against the shirt covering Tooru’s chest. “you could have just asked.”

“Iwa-chan,” says Tooru, his voice a soft, exasperated sigh. “you know that’s not what’s going on.”

“Sometimes it feels like it is.”

“ _Hajime._ ”

The foreign sound of a name other than ‘Iwa-chan’ coming out of Tooru’s lips and the feeling of his hand on his cheek prompt Hajime into glancing up — which must have been just what Tooru wanted, since he’s immediately met with a soft kiss.

“I love you, Hajime,” Tooru murmurs against his lips; a rare show of genuine affection. “don’t forget that.”

“Yeah,” says Hajime, since he doesn’t know what else to say. “you too.”

Tooru just smiles and pulls him against his chest again, and for once, Hajime doesn’t have the heart to fight it.

“Good night, Tooru.”

“Night, Iwa-chan.”

Hajime won’t admit that he sleeps better with Tooru’s arms around him, and Tooru won’t admit that he feels lonely without the familiar weight of Hajime against his chest, but they don’t need to. For once, the silence says it all.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm dead. i can't believe i finally posted this. what year is it  
> as much as i'm not great at writing them, iwaoi (and all of seijoh, who am i kidding) owns my heart! lmao


End file.
